Arms Outstretched
by calendaes
Summary: It was hard to watch a man die by degrees.


**Title**: Arms Outstretched

**Author**: Loraineee

**Pairing**: Charlie/Claire

**Warning**: Unabashed angst for the sake of angst. Some medical stuff. Also, this is deathfic written specifically for the tearjerker challenge at the Charlieclaire livejournal group.

_One._

It's hard to watch a man die by degrees, his arms outstretched and begging for help and the only thing you can do is give him water and pat his head. The cup grows heavier in his hands everyday until he can't even lift his head to sip.

Claire notices first. Of course, she notices first. She's the only one who notices everything about him. The way he whispers to Ana when she fusses at night in her palm frond bassinette before Claire can move from her spot on the cave floor. The way he sings silly songs for both Claire and Ana when everyone is out looking for food. The way he doesn't even wince when Ana pulls on his beard.

So when Charlie hesitates on the third daily water run to the few stragglers on the beach and lets Walt go in his place, Claire knows something is wrong. She doesn't say anything when he heads back to their small corner of the cave and sits down with his guitar. He avoids her eyes when she joins him.

She watches him sleep that night, brushing hair off his forehead like her mother used to do when she was sick in Australia so many years ago. He grimaces in his sleep and she blows on the back of his neck while ghosting a hand across his back. His shirt is damp but she can't tell if it's the tropical heat or if he's running a fever.

She falls asleep, her forehead on his shoulder and in the morning he's already gone.

_Two._

The cave is quiet during the day and Claire can watch Charlie from her makeshift nursery. Since that first day of shirked duty, he's gone from three daily water runs to one. If she asks him why, he shrugs off the question, spouting some nonsense about giving Walt more responsibility and making the stragglers earn their keep.

The sun is high, but there's a nice breeze and Charlie hoists Ana on his hip. "I think I know someone who wants to go play in the sand."

Ana tugs on his beard and gurgles happily.

"Well, Charlie. I thought you'd never ask." Claire kicks on her sandals and pulls herself off the bench by the fire. "I love a good sandbox."

"I guess you can come too. If you can catch us." Charlie grins back at Claire as he starts toward the trail at a brisk pace.

With the beach in site, Charlie stops suddenly, sitting down hard on the ground with Ana in his lap.

"Charlie!" Claire kneels down on the path in front of him and holds his face with her hands. "Charlie, what's wrong? Are you okay? Should I go get Jack? Charlie?"

He's breathing hard, his eyes shiny with panic when suddenly he swallows and pulls away. "I'm. Fine. Claire." He pauses and swallows again, focusing all his energy on the jungle floor. "Just catching my breath."

Ana fusses in Charlie's lap and Claire holds her arms out. "I'll take her, Charlie. Let's just head back. We can go to the beach tomorrow. You should really talk to Jack. This isn't normal." She smoothes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her mouth to his ear. "You're scaring me."

She helps him up and they make their way slowly through the jungle to the caves.

_Three._

Claire takes her turn with the food preparation while Shannon watches Ana and Charlie pulls Jack away from the crowd to do whatever it is the good doctor can do for him. Claire can't concentrate on the stew when she can see Charlie and Jack through the corner of her eye. Finally, she gives the ladle to Shannon and takes Ana back into the caves.

The shadows float across the walls of the cave and from Claire's corner, she can make out the shapes of the people passing by. There's Hurley with Walt and Vincent following. Shannon standing just outside the entrance, waiting for Boone to come to her side. Ana climbs from her bassinet into Claire's lap and starts tugging on her mother's hair, a favorite pastime. Ana is small and perfect and sometimes Claire can't believe that she ever thought of giving up her baby. But she also can't believe that's she's found her happiness here, on a deserted island, surrounded by strangers that aren't so strange anymore.

She'd always talked about communal living with her likeminded friends in Sydney and they'd bob their heads and spout the last article they'd read in Natural Living or the Whole Earth catalog or some shite like that. But here she was, in a cave, and her only private space was behind the small divider that Charlie had built for her to dress behind. She'd laughed when he showed it to her. Breastfeeding didn't leave for much modesty, but he was so proud and excited that she vowed to use it everyday.

Claire is cheering Ana on in her quest to perfect the perfect waddle when Charlie returns to the cave. His chalk-white pallor and dazed stumble to the sleeping area draw Ana's attention and she grabs his leg when he passes to sit on the ledge by their mats. Ana starts to whine after Charlie doesn't immediately pull her into his lap but he just sits there, head in his hands.

"Charlie?" Claire sits down next to him with fussy Ana in her lap. She touches his shoulder. "Charlie, are you okay? What did Jack say?"

He doesn't flinch from her touch. "What?" He slowly turns to face her. "He said…" He pauses and holds onto one of Ana's chubby little hands. "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. Just a cold. I've had worse."

"You're not fine, Charlie! You couldn't even make it down to the beach. Jack wouldn't keep you out there talking for half an hour for just a cold. Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to find Jack and ask him myself?"

Charlie sighs heavily and stares at a point across the cave. "I'm not fine. Alright. But there's nothing to do. Jack can't even be sure what it is except that it's bad and it's going to get worse and there's nothing he can do. He doesn't have any medication. I mean, we could always see if Sun could find one of her magical plant cures, but I don't think she has something that can cure fucking cancer."

_Four._

Claire hadn't known quite what to say, so she didn't say a thing. Just traced patterns and words on his back while he shuddered and rubbed at his eyes. He finally tires out and stretches out on his mat. Claire lies down next to him with Ana curled up in between.

She brushes her fingers through the hair on his temple until his shaky breathing evens out and slides off the mat, gently untangling Ana's chubby fingers from her hair.

Jack is sitting by the fire like he does most evenings, never sleeping until he knows everyone else is safe. There's several small clusters of people scattered around the outskirts of the fire but Jack sits off to the right. Claire grabs a bottle of water and slides down next to him.

"Claire. Hey." Jack can't look her in the eye. The fire reflects off his face, halolike, and Claire wonders for a moment if the effect is intentional. Jack, savior of us all. But he can't save Charlie.

"You know why I'm here, Jack. Are you sure? About Charlie? You could be wrong."

"There's no way to know for sure. It's not like I can send a sample down to the lab for confirmation, Claire. But from what he's describing, there are only a few options. And none of them good."

"What he's describing? He's been a little tired and he had a panic attack and you just jump to cancer? What kind of _doctor_ are you?" Claire's hissed words are starting to draw attention from the two men playing cards in the corner. Jack reaches for her arm. "Don't touch me! I don't even. How could you do this to Charlie?"

"Claire. Calm down. Don't be mad at me." Jack pulls her away from the main fire and to the bench that looks out over the mountains on the interior of the island. "This isn't my fault."

"So it's Charlie's fault then? He can't be _that_ sick! He's just tired."

"So tired he can't even make it down to the beach without losing his breath?"

"We were racing! And he made a water run this morning!"

"Haven't you noticed the bruising? His legs are like one giant bruise, Claire."

"So are mine! So are everyone's. We live in the flipping jungle. We all have bruises!"

"Did he tell you about the nosebleeds? Or that his glands are so swollen he can barely swallow or put his arms down?"

"No, I don't believe you. He would have told me!" Claire's eyes cloud with tears but her shakes. He would have let her know.

"Charlie wants to protect you Claire, he wants to protect all of us." Jack reaches for her arm again and this time she lets him pat her arm reassuringly. "He doesn't want to you to have to take care of him."

"But I want to take care of him! I love him." Claire's voice breaks and her face crumples into Jack's shoulder. She collects herself and roughly whispers. "Can't you make him better?"

Jack doesn't say anything while she cries. "I can hope for a miracle. I can ease his pain as much as I can. But I can't make him better, Claire. There's nothing on this island that can make him better."

"But he can't be that sick. I just don't think…he just can't be that sick."

Jack sighs. "That attack he had this morning. That wasn't just him being out of breath. He doesn't have enough red blood cells carrying oxygen in his bloodstream. That's…he's pretty bad, Claire. And it's only going to get worse. I'm kind of amazed he hasn't gotten an infection."

"How long?"

"There's really no wa—"

"_How long, Jack?_"

"A few weeks. Maybe a month or two if he's lucky."

"God."

They talk quietly for a few more minutes before Claire leaves Jack at the fire and crawls onto the mat next to Charlie. She watches him sleep in the cloudy light filtered in from the small holes in the ceiling of the cave.

_Five._

She feels looking before she opens her eyes and smiles. It had to have been a dream. Ana gurgles and squirms against her.

"Someone wants to get up. Shall we wake up Mommy, princess? Or should we go get some brekkie and bring her a feast?" Ana toddles over to Charlie and squeaks her approval of the plan.

"Mmm. Bananas again? Or have you finally found that mythical papaya tree you're always going on about?" Claire rolls over and smiles up at Charlie. Her smile fades when she sees the bruises on his arms and his washed out complection.

"Claire? You okay?" He grins over Ana's head and bounces her on his knee.

"No. I'm. Charlie, you're sick."

Charlie glances around the cave and lowers his voice. "Please."

"Please what, Charlie?" She takes Ana from Charlie.

"Please keep your voice down. I don't want everyone to know."

"They're going to know. You can't keep it a secret forever."

Charlie suddenly becomes interested in the weave of their mat. "I know. I just want it to be normal. Just for as long as I can. And I don't want you to worry about me. You have Ana and staying alive to worry about." Claire opens her mouth to protest. "No. For once in my life I'm not going to be selfish. I'm not going to be a burden. It's kinda funny though."

"Funny? There's nothing funny—"

"I mean, I survive ten years of rock and roll, heroin addiction and this plane crash and this is what takes me down."

"Charlie, you're going to be fine." She can't hold the edge of pleading out of her voice. What she really means is, I need you to be fine.

"I'm not. And it sucks."

"It really does." Claire puts her arm around his shoulder and they stay that way for a really long time.

_Six._

The next three weeks pass too quickly and Charlie seems no better but no worse. Claire watches him closely for signs of deterioration, but he's either a really good actor or feeling okay. He stays close to the cave and if the others notice his reluctance to leave the area, they don't say anything.

Claire isn't sure what Jack has told them, but they are treating her with kidgloves. Offering to watch Ana, taking over fire duty and excusing her from water runs to spend more time with Charlie who spends most of the day playing his guitar by the fire.

She'd almost think everything was normal if not for the times she'd find him hiding behind the divider, his eyes red and faraway. He won't talk for hours and sometimes she can feel him shake at night. When she can't take the silence, she walks to the waterfall Hurley found and stands under the waterfall, drowning out her thoughts with the pounding of the water all around her. It's beautiful and serene, like everything on this island until the monster peeks around the corner and eats the person standing next to you.

She's at the waterfall this morning after snapping at Charlie over, of all the stupid things, breakfast. She'd yelled at him and he'd looked at her with stricken face before walking away. She's so angry. So angry at this stupid island and this stupid crash and stupid dying Charlie and she curses him and wants to hit him and shake him and tell the stupid bastard to never leave her.

So she comes here, where her wracking sobs can't be heard by anyone including herself. She closes her eyes and looks towards the sky.

She gasps when she feels the hand on her arm. It's Sayid.

"Claire. _Claire._ You have to come. Now."

_Seven._

She doesn't stop at the crowd gathered at the mouth of the caves. She pushes herself through the sea of horrified faces and follows the trail of dried blood over to their mats where Jack sit beside a prostrate Charlie. She stops.

"What is it? Charlie? Are you okay, Charlie? Answer me." She whimpers as she moves closer, eyes widening at Charlie's blood-soaked clothes.

"I don't think he can talk right now, Claire. But he can hear you." Jack speaks slowly and gestures her over. "I need your help."

She nods and moves closer, covering her mouth and pulling herself together. Charlie's eyes are wide and glassy but they meet hers when she kneels by his head. She forces herself to lean down and kiss his forehead, whispering 'I love yous' in his ear.

"Claire, I need you to hold the bridge of his nose, like this." Jack moves his the cloth in his hand away from Charlie's nose and she has to bite back a sob at the rush of blood. "Right here. Tight. As much pressure as you can, all right?"

His skin is slippery with sweat and blood, but Claire holds on. "Oh my god, Jack. What's happened?"

Jack stretches his hands, wiping them on a piece of cloth. "His blood's not clotting. He's in shock and we've got to stop the bleeding. Just hold on, buddy." Charlie moans quietly and grabs Jack hand as he tries to leave. "Charlie? How you doing there?"

Charlie clears his throat and tries to talk. It's nothing but a short rasping sound and he grimaces in frustration. Claire smoothes his matted hair from his forehead with her freehand. "Ssh. Jack needs to go help the others." She nods at Jack and turns her attention to Charlie. His skin feels fragile under her fingers and she can feel his slow pulse as counterpoint to her frantic one.

She can't look away from his eyes, can't see the world outside the two of them. Pressure. And heat. The red that covers their mat and his clothes and, as she lies down next to him, her clothes too. Lips brush over his ears as she whispers a constant stream of pleas and nonsense. Please. And no. And I went to the waterfall today. Whispers until her voice goes hoarse and his eyes close.

He clears his throat once more and murmurs almost silently. One word, over and over.

_Scared_.

Finally his lips stop moving. His breathing evens out and Claire lets herself cry.

_Eight._

"Claire. _Claire_." She feels a violent jerk and someone pushing her over. "Claire, it's the monster! Please wake up! Claire!"

"What?" She sits up and looks around the dark of the cave. Charlie drags himself to a sitting position over on the ledge by the sleeping area, his feverbright eyes wild with fear. "Charlie, you need to lay down."

"But the monster! Claire, you're covered in blood. Are you hurt? I'll go get Jack. You wait here." Charlie tries to pull himself up and succeeds in hitting his chin on the ledge. He's shaking hard now; his breath coming in big gaping gulps.

"Charlie! Stop. I'm not hurt and the monster is not here. Please don't move." She moves to the ledge, taking his head in her hands and searching for some sign that he recognizes reality. "Charlie. You're very sick. You need to lay down."

"You're funny. Are you playing a joke on me? I don't know where you got all this blood or all these drugs, but thank you, I've had enough. Charlie Pace has had enough. Thank you and good night." He adds a crowd sound as he lifts his shaking hand to her shoulder.

"It's not a joke, Charlie. It's just you and me and we're in the cave. Everyone's safe."

"Everyone?" Claire's words seem to ground Charlie and when he looks at her again, there's a sense of clarity in his eyes. "I'm not safe," he whispers. "I'm going to die. Fuck. I'm going to die, Claire. I'm dying." His words dissolve into quiet sobs. "I'm so scared."

Claire holds him tight, choking back sobs of her own. She needed to be strong. For Charlie and for herself. "It's all right. I'm here. I won't let you go alone. I love you."

His shaking slows and he whispers frantically in her ear. "You won't let them bury me. Don't let them leave me here, Claire. I can't stay on this island forever. Please don't let them bury me. _Please_.

She swallows the lump in her throat when his voice cracks in desperation. "I won't let them. Ssh. I won't let them, Charlie. I love you." Jack is over her shoulder in the corner of the cave, listening to Charlie's piteous cries. Claire nods at Jack and turns her attention back to Charlie. "I won't let them."


End file.
